The Love, The Life and The Truth of Abigail Lupin
by Godric-Gryffindor14
Summary: He's a wizard, she's a muggle. Bring them together and you get a witch daughter. The dad has a little problem and can't look after her. The mum hates magic and leaves the child to a care home. Abigail Lupin grows up moving from country to country, trying to live among muggles. During 3rd year, she decides to go to Hogwarts. Little does she know she just fell into a load of it.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. Hi, please review. This is my first story and I want to know what you think.**

The small, yet 13 year old girl, was due to start Hogwarts. In fact, she was over-due. After spending several years of education at Beuxbatons academy, Abigail grew tired of the same old marble staircases, and to be perfectly honest, she was undisputedly SICK of the same old etiquette and 'lady-like' manners. She was never one for rules, and these rules were the worst sort.

Okay, she had heard from people that Hogwarts had thousands upon thousands of rules (all placed by an evil lunatic named Filch), but her father had went there, and that one-upped the rest. There was also the fact that it was in Scotland, and she hated every part of France, her current country. She had lived in England, France, America, Australia: she had loved that one as she had lived near the kangaroos, and well, when you leave a 3 year old girl near kangaroos, things get real. Poland, Switzerland, Turkey, Spain and, finally, Iceland, which ironically is green and not icy.

All in all, she had lived in 87 homes, each time being passed onto someone who thinks they can handle her, who actually can't.

So, you can guess her excitement when her care-worker, who was somehow a witch, gave her the news of her late acceptance into Hogwarts. Carol, her care-worker, had personally wrote to Dumbledore, and he had replied with a positive. GO DUMBLEDORE!

One of the best things about it was who was due to teach DADA that year. You guessed it, Professor Lupin, her father. Though, she didn't think he knew about her. Yet…that was!

"Right….have you got everything?" Carol asked for the umpteenth time.

"Yes! I'm not that much of an idiot, you know…Wait, where is my cauldron?" She asked, her smile wavering slightly as she brought her predicament to a close. OK, now she was full-out panicking. She was doomed.

"In your trunk, along with the rest of it. I was just trying to provoke some sort of emotion for you, and ta-da!"She exclaimed, smiling widely, teeth glinting white against the roaring sun pouring through the window. The small, boxed cupboard looked barely room enough for cleaning equipment, let alone a 13 year old girl. That had been what hindered her height. She looked 10 at most, which really wasn't good for someone who should have hit her growth-spurt years prior. At least she would blend in when getting sorted.

She was kind of cute, as if she were young, but at the same time she was pretty and mature looking as if she were her actual age.

She was shook from her musings as she felt the similar feeling of tugging at her navel. Looking down, she realised, somehow, she had touched the port-key that was to take her and Carol to London, from there Carol would disapparate to her party in South London. There she would be left to fend for herself. Now she thought about it, how was she to get on _Platform 9 and 3/4?_

When she finally collapsed to the floor, she was thoroughly winded, no air left for her to ask. With a good-bye, Carol departed with a crack. Great. She was alone, on the floor, gulping for breath, in front of the most busy train station ever.

Eventually forcing herself to stand as to not draw even more negative attention to herself, she was hit with a wave of dizziness and nausea. She should have remembered last time she travelled by port-key. She had been sick for days, and now she was somehow supposed to get onto the train without being sick. Her legs, unable to support her weight no longer, gave way and she fell to the cold cement. She could vaguely hear low-voiced arguing, but she ignored it as it had nothing to do with her, and quite frankly, her brain, at the moment, could only do one thing, and that was to hold down her vomit.

"Fine, help the child. But God help you boy if she's one of you!" A fat, purple man said slightly louder to a skinny raven-haired boy, who looked around 13, her age.

"Yeah, thanks Uncle Vernon." The boy replied quickly.

The boy ran over to her and muttered something that sounded like "Here you're alright now. You're a bit white, is that normal? I can't remember." She responded with a shake of the head, no, not trusting herself to open her mouth. The boy helped her to her feet and helped her inside. He took her over to one of the benches and watched her as she slumped in the seat.

"Where's your luggage? Where's your parents?" He asked in quick succession.

Finally, she opened her mouth, even if slightly, and croaked:

"Carol shrunk me luggage. It's in me pocket. As for me mum and dad, I don't know do I, I've lived in a care-home long as I can remember."

"Shrunk your luggage?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

She stumbled around with her hand for a moment until she came to her pocket, reached in and drew at a miniscule trunk.

"Oh poor dear. Where's your mum an-ahhh!" The women she now realised as her mum, Petunia Dursley, asked and then, as you noticed, shrieked. "I-it's you! I w-was told you we-went to F-france. B-beuxbatons, they s-said. You're not even s-supposed to be in this country!"

"Says who?" I croaked. "Not a rule is there mum?"

"Who's she?" A fat kid moaned.

"I'm Abigail."

"You look 10. If you're my daughter, you'd be 13, same age as Dudders and the boy." She snarled, smirking smugly at having found a way around our relation.

"I am 13!" I exclaimed. "I ain't fed enough. And I live in a broom cupboard at the France care-home. Don't like me much there though. But looks like you're other child's fed enough for the three of us." I said motioning to the skinny boy, the fat boy and me. "Who's he? Why's he so skinny?" I asked looking at the skinny boy.

"He's a nuisance, just like you. But we were forced to take him in. I didn't ever like you, and you dad had _issues_, so you were sent to a care-home. Simple." She put extra emphasis on the word 'issues'. I only growled in response.

"Come on." The raven-haired boy said. "We'll be late for the train. I'm Harry Potter, by the way." Harry said, whilst walking away and looking over his shoulder at me. I slowly followed, still feeling ill.

"And I'm Abigail Lupin"

I've just met mum, and she doesn't like me much, as you can tell.

Anyhow, we got to Platform 9 and 3/4 _through a wall_. Can you believe it? I know. Harry couldn't seem to grasp the idea that I was a third year, due to my height, weight and my late starting. I just shrugged my shoulders in response.

I couldn't wait for Hogwarts.

**A.N. This is the first chapter, more to come. Just one question to ask. Did you like this chapter?**


	2. The cure is chocolate Or maybe not

**Chapter 2: The cure is chocolate. Or maybe not.**

**A/N: Chapter 2! Sorry, lately I've been suffering from Harry Potter and I'm a Celeb withdrawal. I couldn't do one without pining for the other so….**

The train ride was long, so very long. The train countered along the track, boring me to death. I slept as long as I could, but when sleep floated too far from my reach, I was forced to participate in the gut-wrenching gossip the firsties in my compartment were having.

"Harry Potter goes to this school!" One would say.

"And he's single!" Another would add.

"And he's totally hot!" One would breath.

"Will he like me?" A fourth would question.

"MAYBE, he would like you to SHUT UP! I mean MERLIN, he could probably hear you on the other side of the train!" I eventually gave in to the urge to scream at them, and boy, should you have seen their faces. They were horrified, scared and ALL of that.

"What right to do you have to talk to _me_ like that? Respect your elders girl." The 'leader', so to say, snapped at me.

"_Elders? _Purr-lease! I'm probably older than all of you." I said, resisting the urge to punch the little bas-sorry, _girl_, in the face.

"No way, your like half the size of me. Are you sure your even old enough for Hogwarts?" There they go again. Another dig at my height. Well, little missy, lets have a height off. I might be just a foot shorter than you!

"Actually, I'm a 3rd year, so get your facts straight." I mentioned, getting up in her face. By that comment, I may or may not have lost all the people on my side, seeing as they probably would want to make friends with people in their year, not a kid 2 years older.

"Really?" She asked excitedly. Talk about mood swings. "What house are you in? What's Hogwarts like?"

"Well…I haven't got a house yet. I've just transferred from Beuxbatons in France."

"Oh." She muttered dejectedly. It's not my fault! It's not like every 3rd year on the Hogwarts Express knows what Hogwarts is like.

I turned around in my seat, signalling that the interrogation was over. Bye bye, sleep tight, don't let the first years bite.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I awoke to a feeling that chilled me to the core. The windows had frosted, or what I could see of it had.

"Someone's coming onto the train!" I distinctly heard one of the firsties tell another.

Dementors.

What else? What other creature could frost you to the bone whilst relieving you of your happy memories? Leaving only the worst?

And that was when I felt it. Just a tiny jolt, but one that indicated that the compartment door had been opened. And at such a speed, what else other than the afore-mentioned.

I knew it had been, right from the very start, but I still wasn't braced for feeling, hearing, seeing all them memories. Some of them weren't even memories, just a man, transforming into a werewolf, which caused great pain. Something that has never been recorded in the history of dementia attacks; I, too, felt the pain.

I heard myself howling and screaming, but it felt as though I had been detached from my body, I didn't know how to stop screaming. I felt feverish, sweaty, and in an abundance of pain that was ever-lasting. Vaguely, I heard someone running up the corridor, but the memory had changed.

I was being left out, at the care-home, but it was at my first, where one boy found it utterly hilarious to see me humiliated, hurt, or crying. This was the worst of my memories inflicted upon myself. It was the day when he had closed the mini van door on my arm, quite roughly in fact. On the day, it had broken my arm, and once again, I was howling in pain.

Then I stopped howling. I was still in pain, still feverish, but out of the corner of my eye I could see a silver wolf patronus chasing away the dementors. The man who had cast the charm handed me a bar of honey dukes chocolate. I knew chocolate helps after dealing with dementors, so I took the offered bar.

He helped me stand, and then led me to what I assumed was his compartment. He nodded at me to eat the chocolate.

"Eat it. It helps." He said. "What's your name? I'll need to tell Madame Pomfrey when we get to school."

"Abigail Lupin" I rasped. He gasped and abruptly stopped.

"Lupin? You can't be. I don't have a daughter." He asked in shock.

"Remember Petunia Evans. I'm hers. She said you didn't know about me and you had 'problems' so you couldn't take me in, so she sent me to a care home in France. I've been going to Beuxbatons for 2 years." I answered distractedly.

"You're 13?! Never mind, we'll talk about this more at school. Eat."

I nodded and bit the chocolate. It warmed me up immediately. I was just about to take another bite when I unknowingly stiffened. Mr. Lupin felt it.

"What's wrong?" He asked, stopping beside me.

Unable to answer, I fell to the floor, foaming at the mouth.

"A wolf attribute! How could I be so stupid! It works for me, so I'm guessing she isn't a proper wolf." Lupin exclaimed.

I was jerking and choking on the floor, loud enough for people to exit their compartments to see what was happening. Harry came running forward, Hermione and Ron hot on his heels. He looked horrified, but when he tried to come closer, Lupin stopped him.

"I need to get her up to the school." He said. "Poison."

I could feel myself being pulled into darkness, but I tried to fight it, like dads incessant mutters told me to. But I couldn't and the last thing I felt was my body flopping and my eyes closing.

**Draco Malfoys P.O.V.**

We were having a lovely chat about how utterly stupid Gryffindorks were and how we would have react if we had been sorted into the house. Crabbe and Goyle didn't understand the point of it and claimed they would have ate cake if they had been sorted into Gryffindor. Mine was I would have avada-kedavra'ed myself, Pansy's was that she would have kissed Blaise and Blaise (albeit horror-struck at Pansy's comment) was that he would have looked at Pansy (which apparently would kill him).

The conversation was branching to other areas, until something created an uproar in the halls, an iniquity promising humiliation or pain. High in the hopes of a good show, our small group of Slytherins eagerly made their way down the halls to the source of the sound. Once at the scene of entertainment, I was horrified to see a small girl (not yet sorted-maybe a Slytherin) jerking and foaming at the mouth. My friends (Blaise in particular) were laughing insensatiably, stupid jerks.

The professor who had been in Potter's compartment earlier was standing over hair, worriedly muttering something under his breath. He then spoke loud enough for people near him to hear, me being one.

"I need to get her up to the school," He said. "Poison."

Just that word uttered brought Blaise out of his hysterics and Pansy from her giggling fit. Crabbe and Goyle continued to grunt, but I don't think they understood. Blaise looked over at me, worry etched onto his face. I shook my head, no.

The shabby professor was muttering something to the girl, but just as he was tensing to disapparate, her body collapsed in his arms, the foaming at her mouth ceased, and her eyes closed. The man who's arms she was in touched her neck. I heard him say to Potter, "She has no pulse." Before disapparating. Granger and Weasley who also heard him started a murmured conversation with the-boy-who-lived.

Trying to tell myself that nothing serious had happened, I let slip a snide comment.

"Probably, just a disease she got off mudblood Granger!" I said, loud enough for everyone to hear me.

Some people (ok, everyone who wasn't a Slytherin, but some Slytherins too) growled at me, some like Weasley launched himself at me, being held back by Scar-head and Mudblood. Some Slytherin who share my beliefs clapped me on the back. I laughed. I laughed a callous laugh at some peoples antics. They were just too hilarious.

"SHE COULD BE DEAD, MALFOY! AND YOU JUST START MAKING HORRIBLE JOKES ABOUT ME! SHE HAD NO PULSE! IT WAS POISON! YOU ARE SUCH AN EVIL, LOATHSOME, UGLY LITTLE COCKROACH!" With that Granger punched me in the jaw. It hurt, it hurt like hell.

"You weren't calling me an 'evil, loathsome, ugly little cockroach' last night!" I joked. In return she trained her wand on my throat, digging it in harshly.

"Come on Hermione," Weasley saved. "He ain't worth it!"

The golden trio turned and began to walk away. Me and my friends laughed again. Come on! We're not all that evil. We still gossip, well Pansy does, and have laughs, and play that muggle bush-tucker trial game. What we didn't expect was that Granger would turn around and punch me in the gut. Well, she did. I was momentarily winded, unable to say anything to her retreating back.

My friends and I, once I gained my breath again, withdrew to our compartment. Resuming our chatter, we decided after the feast, we would play spin-the-bottle in the common room, but only if more girls joined, otherwise Pansy would be getting a lot of kisses.

The train halted-it was dark outside, darker than any other nights on the Hogwarts Express. Once exiting the train, the giants unintelligible yelling reached our ears. Shaking our heads, secretly smirking, we walked off towards the carriages.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When we reached the carriages, they were once again being led by magic. All 5 of us got into one, and were immediately hauled forward by invisible forces.

"2-1 odd that that kid on the train gets into Hufflepuff." Pansy started the conversation, tossing her sleek black hair over her shoulder.

"Nah, too cute for that. Slytherin hands on." Blaise commented, his copper-coloured eyes boring into Pansy's blue ones.

"Fine, I'll take that bet. How much?" She asked.

"2 galleons."He answered.

"As much as I hate to admit it guys, she's friends with Potter. Gryffindor-5 galleons." I bet.

"Go on then."

With that ending the betting pool until further notice, they left the carriages and entered the Great Hall. They walked over to their table making wild gestures with their hands.

"Did you know Potter fainted?" I asked. "Hey, Potter. Dementors scare you? Need your mummy and daddy?"

Pansy laughed her barking laugh. Blaise continued the insult:

"They getting you down? Too bad, ain't it. That you don't have a mummy or daddy to run to." With that he laughed and they all walked away.

"Blaise, you made me cry, now. It's IS sad that he has nobody." Pansy whined.

"Come on. Whoever he went to probably hero-worships him!" I finished.

McGonagall led a line of first years to the front of the hall, directly behind her being the girl from the train. She may look a little white, but she survived.

**A.N. I have no idea what house to put her in. If nobody answers this, then it'll probably be Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw and Slytherin seem quite appealing to. No offence to any Hufflepuffs, but she I just don't imagine her as one. Review, follow, please.**


	3. It better be

**A/N: I know the song is from book 4 but there isn't one for third year.**

Abigail's P.O.V.

"A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose name are still well-known:

Bold Gryffindor from wild moor,

Fair Ravlenclaw from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin from fen.

They share a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan,

To educate young sorcerers,

Thus Hogwarts school began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues,

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hardworkers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favourates from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug around your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!"

The voluminous hall erupted into cheers directed at the tatty object in front of me. It may not look pretty, but I could see it was smart, and it has sorted many students before me.

Professor McGonagall unfolded the parchment, but was halted by a hand from Professor Dumbledore.

"Now before we start the sorting, I would like to give Misters Weasley a chance to begin a betting pool. We have a third year amongst the midst of first years, waiting to be sorted. She is a transfer student from Beuxbatons. She will be sorted at the very end of the sorting. You may begin taking bets."

Professor McGonagall once again unfolded the parchment and began to read the names of eager children.

"Atkinson, Kate"

"GRYFFINDOR"

"Bennett, Alex"

"RAVENCLAW"

"Clifton, James"

"HUFFLEPUFF"

"Creevey, Colin"

"GRYFFINDOR"

"Edwards, Sherrell"

"GRYFFINDOR"

"Green, Megan"

"RAVENCLAW"

"Creevey, Dennis"

"RAVENCLAW"

"Snickercross, Josephine"

"SLYTHERIN"

"McKinnon, Lucy"

"GRYFFINDOR"

...to name but a few. Each time the hat remained upon the child's head for a different period of length. Some barely grazing the head before the decision was made and some sitting for up to 2 minutes.

I was the only one still standing at the front now. Fred and George Weasley were being handed lots of money, but to one person handing money back, a pretty good feat.

"Lupin, Abigail" Professor McGonagall called upon me, eyes flickering over my appearance, trying to deduce some sort of relation to Professor Lupin, my dad. I stepped forward, having the hat placed upon my head, forcing me into darkness.

_Oh, a challenge. I like you. _A voice whispered inside my head.

_What do you mean? _I asked in reply.

_You've got plenty of courage, a big heart, a thirst for knowledge and lots of cunning. You fit all four! Hmmm, where to put you. You're a Lupin, 2-1-1-1 to Gryffindor. But this mind is so full already! Yet you thrive for more! 2-2-1-1 to Ravenclaw. It's between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Where do you want to go?_ It asked.

_All my friends so far are in Gryffindor. But I don't think it will challenge me enough. Ravenclaw. I want to be in Ravenclaw. _I said, making my final answer.

_Well, if you're sure, better be RAVENCLAW!_

It shouted the last bit for the hall to hear. I was one of the people who took a longer time to be sorted, and during that time some people had grown quite agitated and greedy for food. I ran over to the Ravenclaw table, perching on the end of a wooden bench.

Food appeared on the golden plates, a large feast, fit for a thousand kings. Whomever cooks the meals, must think they are cooking for royal!

I ate as much as my small body could stomach, which was very little. By the time the feast came to a close, the platters of roast chicken, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, Turkey etc where mere specks. On each table platters were cleaned of the remaining food on them.

After, Dumbledore clapped his hands together and announced the time to return (or see) our common rooms.

Trekking up many staircases as 1.a lot of them moved to the wrong position so we had to go up a new one to make our path correct, and 2. Our common room was in the second highest tower.

Hours, maybe months, later, we reached the entrance to Ravenclaw house. 2 knocks and an Eagles beak appeared.

"What whistles but has no mouth? What moves trees but has no hands?" It said.

"The wind," the prefect said, revealing the common room with his correct answer, "If you get it wrong, you'll have to wait for someone else to come up and then get it right, or you'll both be stuck out here. That way, you're always learning."

Tiredly, the group of first years, trudged up the stairs, to the appointed first year dormitories.

"You're the third year, right?" The prefect asked me.

"Yeah"

"PADMA!" He yelled across the common room at a startled Asian girl, " Abigail's in your year. Show her the dormitories and all that."

The girl nodded, grabbed Abigail's hand, and dragged her up to the dorms excitedly.

"Yey! Some of these girls in our dorm are so ANNOYING! I hope you're not like them?"

I shook my head, no. This seemed to please her. She directed me to a bed, upon which I sat.

"So..."

**A/N: DONE! With having to learn 4 pages of Re answers (Which I still haven't fully done) , I've finally done it. Thanks for reading it people. I've had this typed up for weeks but I haven't had a chance to upload it.**


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